my heart nearly stopped every time i had to cross the street
so let’s thank the queen for writing it down
before she’s just another thing i have to step over
all the rest have tickled my feet so far
and everything under construction reminds me that these days
the only remedy seems to be better luck and more cloud cover

i’ve been racing to crash on the couch
just to wake up to see if i have time for it all
and i want the stereotype to be true so i have nothing to cry about  
with the way things are going
you’d tell me not to be so brutal to myself
but the thrill i used to know is now paying its dues to the concrete

i was almost convinced i wasn’t asleep
when she whispered paris
nothing, everything may have changed
so this is not like anything i’ve never meant:

my heart nearly stopped with the regret of not talking to you
it's hard killing birds when you don't have any stones and
besides this time i think i've really done it
two days and this is already my favorite story but
second chances don't have to be so mysterious
maybe i just wanted to see you smile again

i should have said it w/o one of and the s after the L
still choosing o over x
and your pull showed my hands a home in the back of your denim
two across the channel makes the significant not so, if you want it
i’ll keep looking for you so long as you
don’t stop drawing me maps

if i died in my indecision then
your mouth showed me heaven
you’re the closest thing to purpose
i’ve ever tasted

i wish you knew how much i mean that

She noticed the basking shark was wounded,
weeping vaginal blood.
The tall man in a fedora whispered as he passed.
Whipped by exploratory waves, she blushed.
The horizon was a hazy green line dipped in red.
She had been there since morning
searching for love,
and found it
from a six-pack merman offering solace
as he rode on the silvery
back of a ray.
As he approached, the sun at his back,
she moaned and threw out her arms
like a supplicant.

Complete at last, the sand grasping at
her shoeless feet, she sank
towards the earth’s distant core
using her arms as uncertain ballast.

She awoke with a shiver
brushed away the sand
and headed back home.
The shark had turned belly-up,
scavenged by seagulls.

Another day-dream enjoyed in the
empty hours between lunch and dinner
between her third cup of tea
and fourth cigarette,
her children snoozing in
the back bedroom. Half-slumbering
in a town barked at by bothersome seagulls
where an unencumbered sun
set on a postcard shoreline.
Planning the rows of petunias to be
planted by the hedge,
making shopping lists,
writing novels, never to be published,
staring out of her windows at the sea
she waited for her husband’s return,
tedious evenings of T.V.
and coition under the brightly coloured duvet.
The waves that overwhelmed her, flooding her senses,
were her own. The man
in the fedora had made her smile.

(This poem was brought to you by the letter...V!)
She vacuums the worn carpet
Her gaze on the surface vague and vacant
But when you lift the lid
She has been ****** into a vortex
Of whirling cosmic space dust.


She's entered a parallel universe
There her name is Vanessa
And her life's so diverse
By day she announces on
underground trains
  'mind the gap, next stop
Mornington crescent'
Her voice is sweet, virtuous,
clear and efficient
  But by evening her voice has
  more va va voom
She sings sultry jazz
in a smoky back room.
She looks almost the same
Voluptuous lines and a
red haired mane
But gone is any trace of mundane.  

Each verse of song she wraps in a sway of the hips side to side
and a ravishing smile
 And if the audience  try it on
or  become volatile
A valiant handsome trilby wearing
gentleman
Can warn them off  
With a choice few nouns
And vexing verbs
make them run a mile

And after the show
She and the gentleman
Vanish from view
And as their heated passion grows
 They sink down onto A velveteen couch
 exploring her peaks n valleys
With his keen mouth
And she traces his muscles
Vivid veins, v lines
She reaches his peak further south.



Back out of the vortex
And back in the room
She is breathless
And her heart is fast and keen
She has stopped the vacuum
Instead saught solace
In the vibrations of her washing machine

I am just sitting here, waiting for you. While you are over there, with my words, touching you. I envy them. I envy their ability to ****** you in ways I could only imagine, and pleasure you in ways, that only I could dream. If I know you two, as well as I do, you are both probably together, somewhere dark and quiet and everyone else in the house is sleeping. They are probably having their way with you, right now. Running around in that mind of yours, putting bad thoughts in your mind, thoughts that you never knew you wanted there, but will never forget. Persuading you to try things, feeling things that you’ve never felt. Levels of pleasure and pain, while exploring regions of your body, that you, never knew existed- finding your weaknesses, make them my strengths, then seducing you with them. To make you wet, they simply pour themselves over your body, dripping down your stomach, seeping into your sweatpants, open your legs and start sliding their fingers up and down the sides of your wet *****. My words guide you thoughts, and your body responds with pleasure. I wish I could hear you moan or just watch you; eyes closed, legs spread-eagle, squirming around under the sheets, grinding yourself against your hand, until you ****** so hard- the contractions squeeze your fingers. But, instead I am just sitting here, waiting for you. While you are over there, with my words, touching you.

i want to know you at 3am
or on a wednesday afternoon

to know your dreams,
to be your thoughts
and explore the other side
of your crescent moon

maybe i just like
the mystery of you,
but i'm hoping you like
the mystery of me, too

I can't treat you like the rest of my life
What it takes to pick myself up
Is not the kind of strength you want from me
I don't really fall down anyway
I think about it all night
And fit you in between work and a dream

It's really not that deep
But I committed to white water rapids
I have to see this one through

I can't treat you like a paycheck
I know I need it but sometimes I want to quit
It's not the real world anyway
Even though you said it might as well be
I keep thinking if I can write a check
Then our problems won't really be

It's actually very deep
Things move slow this far down
I'm still hoping you'll see this one through